


Easing A Burden

by goldenteaset



Category: Black Cat
Genre: Foot Massage, M/M, Pre-Series, Unrequited Love, Unresolved Sexual Tension
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-01-01
Updated: 2016-01-01
Packaged: 2018-05-10 22:45:37
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,043
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5603722
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/goldenteaset/pseuds/goldenteaset
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>"One evening, after another successful mission, they return to their apartment—it’s best to stay in one place for Chronos’ sake—and Creed decides that enough is enough. Train looks tired tonight, which is a rare sight to see, and such weariness needs to be remedied. </p>
<p>When Train slumps into the old wood chair next to the heater and moves to take off his shoes, Creed walks to him. Train looks at him bemusedly, his gold eyes looking brighter than ever in the midnight shadows.</p>
<p>'Creed...what’re you doing?'</p>
<p>'Lending my assistance.' Creed kneels in a fluid motion. The carpet sinks slightly beneath his weight. 'Since you clearly need a break.'"</p>
            </blockquote>





	Easing A Burden

**Author's Note:**

> Someday, I'll write something with a plot for Black Cat. However, today is not that day! 
> 
> I wanted to emphasize Creed's more dramatic side, but he apparently had a tiring night too. Then again, this is also before he's gotten around to fully establishing The Apostles of the Star, so maybe he hasn't had a full taste for the theatrical yet...or he's too enchanted by Train to bother. Pick your poison! 
> 
> Disclaimer: I don't own Black Cat.

In Creed’s opinion, Train Heartnet’s body is utterly perfect. From the ripple of his muscles to the unquenchable fire in his gold eyes when he shoots a target, he’s never met anyone to compare. He tells Train this after every mission, despite Train’s characteristic lack of response. That reaction makes Creed a little sad—how can the incredible Black Cat be unaware of his own beauty?

One evening, after another successful mission, they return to their apartment—it’s best to stay in one place for Chronos’ sake—and Creed decides that enough is enough. Train looks tired tonight, which is a rare sight to see, and such weariness needs to be remedied. 

When Train slumps into the old wood chair next to the heater and moves to take off his shoes, Creed walks to him. Train looks at him bemusedly, his gold eyes looking brighter than ever in the midnight shadows.

“Creed...what’re you doing?”

“Lending my assistance.” Creed kneels in a fluid motion. The carpet sinks slightly beneath his weight. “Since you clearly need a break.”

"I'm fine."

"Anyone can see that isn't the case. You won't fall to anything or anyone if I can prevent it." 

Reverently, Creed curls his fingers around Train’s left ankle and lifts his foot into his lap. He tugs at the laces, looking up at Train’s face from time to time to see his expression. Right now, he’s still uncertain, but not uncomfortable. Creed finishes untying the laces and slides the leather shoe free, placing it on the floor. After due consideration, he pulls off the black sock too, admiring the way the cotton slowly inches back to reveal tanned skin.

“My feet probably smell,” Train says, his voice barely above a murmur.

“That doesn’t matter.” Creed folds the sock carefully and picks up Train’s bare foot again. “To touch you like this is an honor…”

“And that’s why I don’t _let_ you. Usually.” The chair _creaks_ softly. “I guess it’s fine tonight.”

Creed decides not to say _I’ll be sure to treasure this, then_ —to say such things would ensure this moment would come to an abrupt end.

He nods in gratitude and begins massaging Train’s foot, pressing his fingers into the tense muscles beneath. He hears the chair _creak_ again, and can feel the floor and foot shift. He can hear Train’s growing contentment, and a spark of warmth lights in his chest. _If only I could see you this way forever…even in battle._ Especially _then, with Hades cocked in one smooth movement, your coat fluttering around you like a raven’s wings as blood spills for you…_

He can smell faint traces of blood on Train’s skin like cologne and he wonders if a mere bath would wash it away. The idea is disappointing, and he focuses instead on his self-appointed task. Slowly but surely, he can feel the coils of tension melt away under his touch.

A soft noise escapes Train’s lips. “…Feels good…”

Creed’s heart jolts. He leans forward unconsciously, his eyes focused on Train’s face, the way his dark eyelashes flutter closed.

“Do you like the massage?”

“Isn’t that obvious?”

Creed laughs softly. “I just wanted to make sure. Do you want more pressure?” He gives a demonstration, pushing harder on the sole.

Train winces. “No, the way you did before was…fine.”

“Very well.” Creed resumes, humming softly to himself.

A peaceful quiet descends upon the apartment. If not for the late hour and the smell of death that clung to them, they could be any companions in this city. _But we’re different. Who else can say that they're truly_ partners _? Even the other Chronos Numbers pale in comparison._ Creed sighs in contentment.

“Creed?”

His head snaps up, a small smile on his lips. “Yes, Train?”

Train looks at him as if half-asleep, his brows furrowed. “Don’t your knees hurt?”

“Hmm? Oh.” He fidgets and winces at the sharp tingling that results. “I didn’t notice. I must have lost track of time…”

“Then get up,” Train says, jerking his foot from Creed’s grasp. “We’ll have to report our mission tomorrow. Go to sleep before your legs do.”

The moment of bliss slips away like smoke.

“But Tr—”

“I’m _fine_. I just needed a rest.” Train sighs and shakes his head. “Seriously, you worry too much. We’ll talk in the morning.”

Creed knows not to press any further. He sighs and slowly stretches his legs, rubbing them to return feeling to his nerves. He listens to Train change into a black shirt and boxers before climbing into bed, the covers whispering as he pulls them over his head. _Perhaps I bothered him more than I thought…_

Disappointed thoughts swirl about Creed’s head as he creeps toward the bathroom, trying to keep from waking his partner. He discards his clothes and folds them carefully by the door, too concerned with his potential mistakes to notice any bloodstains. _Was I too forward? Was he only humoring me?_ He turns the metal knob, and hot water _gushes_ out from the spout into the tub. _Perhaps he fell asleep, and I woke him. Or perhaps_ I _fell asleep, and he noticed._

Creed feels a weary headache pound in the back of his head. _If this continues, I’ll wake up tomorrow in a foul mood that the Elders will notice. I must act the part of the loyal pawn until everything is ready._

He climbs into the tub, shocked awake momentarily by the enveloping heat the surrounds him. He sinks into the water slowly, relieved as the ache in his legs and back subsides. _I could fall asleep right now…but that would cause more trouble than it’s worth._ He chuckles at the mental image of Train having to rescue him from drowning. _But seeing Train’s desperate face would be_ exquisite _…_

A thought occurs to him as he submerges his head in the water and resurfaces, strands of hair clinging to his face and neck. _When Train told me to get up…that was his way of caring for me. It may mean nothing to him, but…_

Creed feels both relieved and foolish. _I suppose I’ll take that as a “thank you”. I’ll tell him tomorrow. And perhaps…I can ease his burden again soon._


End file.
